


all dressed up for a hit and run

by imposterhuman



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU-gust 2020, Alternate Universe - Crime, Enemies to Lovers, FBI Agent Bucky Barnes, Flirting, Flirty Tony Stark, M/M, thief Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:13:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25862629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imposterhuman/pseuds/imposterhuman
Summary: “I’m not sleeping with a criminal,” Bucky said sternly, trying to pretend like his resolve wasn’t wavering.“C’mon, baby,” Tony purred, raking a nail down his chest. “You’ve got nothing on me. Innocent until proven guilty, right?Technically,I’m not a criminal.”Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You’ve stolen billions of dollars worth of artwork.”“Allegedly,” Tony shrugged artfully. “Everyone needs a hobby."
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 215
Collections: Marvel





	all dressed up for a hit and run

**Author's Note:**

> for au-gust day 12: crime au
> 
> enjoy!!

Bucky took in the crime scene with grudging respect. For a criminal, Tony Stark had a way of making his thefts look like art. As an FBI agent, Bucky knew he shouldn’t appreciate it. As the FBI agent tasked with catching Tony, he should absolutely hate it. But he couldn’t help but to admire the finesse with which Tony committed his crimes. 

The security system was still blinking green lights and the glass case had not a fingerprint on it. But the priceless painting was gone. Bucky wasn’t even sure why the CSI team bothered to go over it; all of them know Tony left nothing behind. He wasn’t going to start then. 

With considerable effort, Bucky tore himself away from the empty case and towards the shrieking owner of the painting. Tony always had to steal from the most insufferable people, which meant the Bucky had to deal with them professionally. 

Somewhere, Bucky was sure, Tony was laughing at him. 

“I’m sorry, sir, can you repeat that?” Bucky asked Justin Hammer, the collector whose painting had just been stolen. Hammer was practically incandescent with rage, but his unfortunate resemblance to a weasel undermined the image. 

Hammer puffed up. “Tony Stark broke into my house and stole my stuff,” he enunciated, like he thought Bucky was stupid. “Are you deaf, agent?”

Bucky cursed Tony in his head for putting him in this situation. Seriously, when he caught the guy, Bucky was going to have a  _ long  _ talk with him about stealing from assholes. “No, Mr. Hammer,” he said blandly. “My hearing is perfectly fine. Why do you think Tony Stark stole your painting?”

“Who else would have done it?” Hammer spluttered. Privately, Bucky agreed with him, of course. But he couldn’t accuse a technically upstanding member of society without solid proof. His hands were tied.

“Mr. Stark has no criminal record and, as of right now, there’s nothing tying him to the crime,” Bucky said, apologetic. He wanted solid evidence just as much as Hammer did; the cat and mouse game he played with Tony was getting a little old. At least, his role as the mouse was. He wouldn’t have minded so much if he could actually get some solid evidence every once in a while.

One of Bucky’s earliest cases years ago had been an art theft much like this one, with no evidence and no leads. It had been the latest in a string of robberies, all of high value artwork that ended up on the black market, impossible to trace back to a seller. Tony’s name had been a whisper in the art underworld, but Bucky had picked it up all the same. He figured out pretty fast that Tony was the thief; only, he had no way to prove it, and his superiors had refused to let him arrest one of the most powerful men in the world without concrete proof. 

So there he was, (technically truthful) words defending Tony’s innocence tasting like ash in his mouth. At least Hammer’s expression was objectively hilarious. It didn’t make up for it, but it made it a little better.

“Mark my words,” Hammer shook a finger like a two-bit villain. “Stark did this.”

“We will investigate all possible avenues,” Bucky said placidly, but he was starting to get truly irritated. Just once, couldn’t Tony steal from a person who was pleasant to deal with? “We’ll call you when we have more information. If you’ll excuse me.”

It was with a vicious sort of pleasure that Bucky left Hammer sputtering at the crime scene and walked off. There was nothing there that would help him. He was facing yet another case with no leads and no way to investigate, seeing as no judge would grant any sort of warrant with no cause. It was enough to make a man a little short-tempered when it came to dealing with jerks. 

With a sigh, Bucky pulled his phone out of his pocket to update his supervisor on the status of the case. Fury wouldn’t be happy, but when was he ever? Bucky opened his email-- only to almost drop his phone in shock. He had a new message, but not from Fury. From  _ Tony Stark _ .

_ 7 at the bar of the Avengers Hotel _ , it read.  _ If you tell anyone, I won’t be there, and then you’ll look like an idiot in front of your whole team. But if you come, you won’t regret it. Deal? _

Bucky read the email three times before he turned his phone off. Tony reaching out was nothing new, but the criminal had always preferred to have the illusion of separation by keeping the screen between them. And of course they’d met each other, but only at Bucky’s instigation. Tony had only offered to meet him once, and that had been in a more professional capacity than an evening at the bar. If Tony was telling the truth, Bucky could get something out of this, something that would help with the massive unsolved case file on his desk labeled  _ Stark _ . But if Bucky told anyone, even asked anyone for advice on what to do, he knew in his bones that Tony Stark would be spotted somewhere a hundred miles away from the Avengers Hotel at seven o’clock that night.

Bucky cursed loudly, getting one of the CSI techs who was leaving the scene to look at him weirdly. He really had no choice. He had to meet Tony, because this was a lead too good to pass up. Fury would understand, especially if it got results. 

Now that that was decided, Bucky only had one more pressing problem: what the hell was he supposed to wear to a rendezvous with his nemesis?

\---

Six hours later, Bucky was sitting in the parking lot of the Avengers Hotel, dressed nicely, but not too nicely. He’d cracked and asked Natasha what to wear for a first date, which he figured was vague enough to avoid Tony’s suspicion, but close enough to the actual situation to be helpful. After mocking him thoroughly, Natasha had given him a surprisingly good suggestion, so there he was, dressed for a first date with a prolific international art thief. 

Bucky rested his head against the steering wheel. How was this his life?

Making the executive decision to just not think about it, Bucky got out of the car and walked into the hotel. The bar branched right off of the lobby, so it was easy to go in and sit down at a table that gave him a clear view of the exit. The bar was less crowded than he’d expected on a Friday night; Tony had clearly had a hand in that. In fact, the only two patrons were a redheaded woman and a black man sitting at the bar, out of earshot of his table.

Bucky checked his watch. 7:01. Tony was late, as he was wont to be. He wondered how long the thief was going to make him wait. Bucky kept his eyes on the only entrance, so he missed it when someone walked out from behind the bar and came to his table.

“Nice shirt,” Tony greeted, a glint in his eye and two drinks in his hand. Bucky resolutely did  _ not  _ starle. “You gonna let me pat you down for a wire?”

“No, because you just want an excuse to grope me,” Bucky felt underdressed compared to Tony’s expensive suit and gleaming watch (that was most definitely stolen). Not to mention, Tony looked sinfully good, and that just wasn’t fair. Criminals, especially the ones that Bucky was tasked with bringing in, were not allowed to be that attractive.

Tony laughed as he sat down. “Guilty as charged,” he winked. He handed Bucky one of the glasses-- scotch, by the look of it. “Even if you had a wire on, it wouldn’t work. Perks of being a tech genius, I guess.”

“Bet no one ever accuses you of being modest,” Bucky grumbled, throwing the now-useless recording device on the table. He hadn’t  _ really  _ expected it to work, but he figured he had to try. “What do you want, Tony? Why’d you call me here?”

Tony waved a hand. “I got bored,” he admitted. “I tried doing fun things-”

“You mean stealing artwork,” Bucky interrupted. 

“--but everything I tried was boring, too,” Tony continued, heedless of the interruption. “I wanted something new and exciting. So, I emailed you. You’re new and exciting, at least to me.”

“We’ve known each other for five years,” Bucky pointed out. “I’m neither new nor exciting.”

Tony took a long sip of his drink. “I wouldn’t say that,” he said with a quicksilver smirk. “You surprise me constantly, Agent Barnes. Did you know that no one has ever gotten as close to solving those terrible missing art cases as you? Plus, you haven’t tried to sleep with me yet despite all my flirting, which is  _ definitely _ new for me.”

“I’m not sleeping with a criminal,” Bucky said sternly, trying to pretend like his resolve wasn’t wavering. He tried to process the information that Tony had just given him-- Bucky was at least relatively close to getting the evidence he needed to put Tony away-- but the majority of his brain was focused on something other than the case.

“C’mon, baby,” Tony purred, raking a nail down his chest. “You’ve got nothing on me. Innocent until proven guilty, right?  _ Technically _ , I’m not a criminal.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You’ve stolen billions of dollars worth of artwork.” 

“Allegedly,” Tony shrugged artfully. “Everyone needs a hobby. Not all of us can spend our days chasing dangerous criminals across the world.”

“Well, I wouldn't have to if you  _ stopped stealing things _ ,” Bucky huffed and drained his drink. He immediately felt like he’d lost something from the growing smirk on Tony’s face.

“I wouldn’t have any excuse to see you, then,” said Tony, faux-upset. “And you’d miss me too much for that. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your little obsession wall.”

“That’s in my apartment!” Bucky spluttered, alarmed. “How did you get in there?”

Tony shot him an unimpressed look. “I could break into the Louvre and steal the Mona Lisa if I wanted to,” he said bluntly. “Your apartment was child’s play. You should maybe invest in a better security system if you're going to make a habit of playing with thieves.”

“Is that an admission of guilt?” Bucky leaned forward with interest, his mind sharp despite the alcohol. 

Tony met him halfway. His breath fanned warm against Bucky’s cheeks. “Not in your wildest dreams, darling,” he said huskily. “But if you want, I can give you some wilder ones tonight.”

“Do you always hit on the agents trying to bring you in?” Bucky asked, genuinely curious. “Because that marks the second time tonight you’ve outright asked me to sleep with you.”

“Only the pretty ones,” Tony shot back. There was a barely-there flush staining his tan cheeks. Point: Bucky. “Is it working?”

“I’m only here because you stole a priceless painting from Hammer’s collection and you promised me a lead,” Bucky did his best to look unaffected. “Do you  _ think  _ it’s working?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Buzzkill,” he muttered, pulling a roll out of his sleeve. “And it wasn’t actually priceless, by the way, but I suppose that’s semantical. Wanna come back to my room and see what else I have hidden on me? I’ll let you do a strip search, just to be thorough.”

“Holy shit,” Bucky breathed, unrolling the stolen canvas. He knew he should have been more careful with it, but curiosity outweighed caution. “Is this the real thing? Why are you giving this to me?”

“Ask me later,” Tony said decidedly. He seemed to be finished with their game, if the way he stood and adjusted his coat was any indication. “Room 128. I’ll leave the door unlocked. For a little while, anyway.”

As he passed, he brushed a barely-there kiss to Bucky’s cheekbone, the pressure there and gone in a breath, much like Tony himself. Bucky resolutely did not chase the feeling or lean into the thief as he walked away; he was a federal agent, goddamn it, not a blushing teenager. Tony couldn’t fluster him so easily. But he couldn’t help but to touch the spot where Tony’s lips had ghosted across his skin.

Bucky stared at the painting in his hand and then the door that Tony had disappeared through. One the one hand, he potentially had proof that Tony Stark was the art thief he’d been after for years (though he doubted that there was a shred of evidence on the painting or the security cameras that could tie Tony to the crime. Tony was reckless as all hell, but he wasn’t sloppy). On the other hand, well…  _ Tony.  _

It wasn’t a choice at all, really. 

Bucky tossed a few bills on the bar to pay for their drinks (because  _ of course  _ Tony had left him with the tab) and left the bar.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos make me happy :))
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr [@imposter-human](https://imposter-human.tumblr.com/)


End file.
